The Angel
by StainedWithBlackInk
Summary: Countless millennia ago, an Angel crossed paths with a Demon High Lord. Their forbidden encounter shatters the grounds for the laws kept between the servants of Heaven and the creatures of Hell forcing a curse upon the two for all eternity. As the Demon finally discovers the being, and their reasons, who cursed them, he is faced with a choice, but neither give him the angel...
1. Chapter 1

An angel, trapped beneath a mangled canopy, ran clumsily through dead, gnarly trees. He wrenched himself from their branches' reaching grasps each time barely escaping their clutches. Roots and twigs nicked his feet while every stumble bruised his knees. His legs were growing heavier from the unending exertion; the increasing fatigue sending powerful waves of panic into his chest. With every slowing step, his heart beat infinitesimally harder in anxiety. If he couldn't keep up until he found a break in the trees, he would be caught. There was no way that he could spread his wings far enough to be able to launch from the ground. They would become as disfigured as the forest around him and wouldn't be able to take him far enough away.

An easy distance back, the angel's pursuer bounded effortlessly over the rough, rolling terrain slipping silently through the trees. He was darkness incarnate melting between the already saturated shadows. His aggressive form contrasted monstrously with his feeble prey's and instead of panic, he was feeling the brisk sharpness of adrenaline pumping through his veins. The predator couldn't quite manage to feel remorse at the terror he was inducing. He wanted his little catch to be completely aware of what was hunting him, of what was going to consume him.

Knowing these woods better than his own home, the predator knew that an opening of escape was about to present itself to his quarry. He was going to have to take away the little angel's ability to fly if he wanted to keep the bloodshed to a minimum...unwanted bloodshed of course. Figuring that if he sent the poor thing into shock he wouldn't be able to escape, the predator let out a menacing growl that rumbled through the blackness of the forest echoing out of the emptiness. His aura lashed out as well, physically caressing the angel's purity, his pristine body slowly being sullied by the filthy forest floor. The small taste that returned to the predator's senses left his baser instincts howling and kicked his legs into a higher gear.

The angel, all the while, let out a short scream as his own senses were being molested by the hunter. His heart sped up painfully, his lungs caught fire. His movements became wild and frantic as the tendrils of a sentient energy ran invisible fingers over his skin. They reminded the poor angel that he was running because the monster behind him was letting him. He had already been caught and was merely being allowed to give chase.

The stinging beginning of tears began to irritate the back of the angel's eyes as a strange mix of sorrow, resignation, and frustration flooded his system. The complex concoction of emotions swirling inside of him nearly let him forget the eminent danger stalking behind him, but he was thrust straight back into reality when he suddenly broke the treeline, and he was somehow ground to a halt tumbling onto the grass below.

The last trip did actually have the predator thinking twice. The innocent confusion that scrunched his angel's face was almost enough to make him feel pity. Almost. Pausing in the shadows at the edge of the glen, the hunter watched his prey still in a sprawled out position. The angel looked near transformed in the noir-light drenched meadow. His entire form was highlighted by the silver glow. Most impressively were his wings. Each feather spilled into the next as they fluttered giving away the angel's nervous state. His equally silver hair swayed back and forth as his head whipped to all directions trying to locate his assailant. With each turn, the predator was also able to see how the light caught the enthralling amythest of the angel's eyes. The uniqueness of the stormy color stroked the hunter's ego. _This world may just be kind_ , he thought, _if it was willing to give me such a priceless mate_.

The angel was getting dangerously close to falling completely into autopilot and letting his wings take him wherever they pleased. While wherever he ended up looked peaceful, and maybe even ethereal, there was a darkness here. A darkness that was lurking just behind the trees patiently awaiting its opening to strike.

"I must admit, little one, you can be nothing less than the personification of the divine. Even the Lord on High must covet your beauty."

The angel flinched and then turned wildly trying to pinpoint where the most treacherous voice he had ever heard vibrated through the meadow. For him, it was the personification of peril. The words felt as if they had been formed by the gentlest meetings of lips and tongue. The sounds had to have been transformed from spice and honey. The greeting was a sensuous display of this demon's hellish abilities to ensnare even the holiest of creatures. The angel shivered in fear...and something else.

"Come now, sweet thing, you mustn't dirty yourself any further. Lie down and put yourself at ease. No harm shall come to you if you choose not to run." Another chill slid down the angel's spine. _No harm, indeed,_ he thought, _This beast will do far worse if I stay._

"Why do you hunt me so persistently, demon? Surely, you know the penalty for murdering one of the Father's most perfect creations!" The demon paused unknowingly as the angel's voice rang through the air. Its tone had the clear, sweetness of a bell, but he spoke so...strangely… How was it that within such unremarkable words, the demon could hear a marvelous, nay, glorious chorus of the seraphim now denied to him for the better part of five thousand years. He braced himself on a twisting trunk to recollect his state of mind.

"Murder?" The rich voice asked incredulously, "My dear, seraphim, I have no such intentions as crude and vile as that. No, for you I have a much more...satisfying purpose." The angel nearly cowered as the demon's tone went from deceivingly soothing to blatantly sensual in a mere handful of words. _Dear Father,_ his thoughts grew desperate, _What am I being left to endure?_

A shiver of delight rippled the demon's flesh as he smelled the angel's fear spike delectably at his reply. He found himself now standing behind the fallen angel as he circled the glenn to better assess his captive. No matter the angle, the silver form was a masterpiece of marble and alabaster. It was entirely paradoxical, his appearance. The young seraphim could have been mistaken for a greek sculpture had his being not also been made of molten silver. Lord, the demon was aching to have the beauty beneath him. What could he possibly feel like, a creature of Heaven, to a creature of Hell? Would the demon even be able to touch him? Would he be thwarted by a holy barrier? -or would he fall right through him, like a lowly human encountering a ghost?

The angel's disheveled state suggested otherwise. His feet were marred by dirt and vivid scratches. His snowy robes were torn and tattered merely draped over his scantily clad body. The green grass beneath him held evidence of his restless hands pressing into the ground and then his eyes...those eyes were a living complexity of motion and color. No eyes intangible could appear so bottomless, so wild. His innocence was a physical radiance that challenged Artemis herself as she climbed the night sky. Oh God, how he _wanted._

"Tell me your name." The demon demanded. Some of the coyness had been curbed from his voice and now a dark… hunger threaded through the deep tone. The angel tensed at the near imperceptible change.

"What use is it for your meal to have a name, demon?" He asked fiercely, his tone a little more venomous.

"Meal?" The angel whirled to his left and fell to his elbows in shock. In a sounding sigh all the air was stolen from his lungs as the demon finally came into view. His voice had lost its echo, the sounds almost muted by his stationary location instead of being allowed to dance around him.

"My darling dove, just what do you think I intend to do with you?" The angel noticeably flinched at the teasing tone; dread and wariness clouding his violet hues. He forced himself into a more erect position despite his lengthy legs being tucked to his side.

"What any demon intends -to consume me in order to gain more power in this plane. You have already become strong enough to break your Hellbonds, so it is quite clear you are familiar with such vulgarity."

The demon's face twisted into a vicious smile. Nonetheless, the angel was particularly aware of how horrifically handsome the Hellion was. The shades of Hades were dripping from his physical countenance slyly heating the angel's veins. Wood stoked fire came to mind as the angel took in all the colors hidden in the demon's lengthy tresses. They were warm and woodsy, so many coppers and scarlets flickered within the strands with each tousle of movement. His skin was flawless, but so deathly pale beneath the ebony coat he wore. And then his eyes, Dear Michael, his _eyes._ The flames of Hell were roaring within those multi-colored irises. The spheres glimmered with temptation and, damn the angel, if he wasn't falling into their chasms.

"Oh, yes love, I do intend to consume you, but not for sustenance, no. That would be wasteful. I venture to revel in your innocence for centuries to come, little one. I will chain you to me as indefinitely as the Chains of Gehenna bind me. You shall be my soul's companion until the day your Lord turns on his promises. You shall walk beside me as this world falls into pitiless chaos while time leaves us untouched. You shall be _mine_ , little one." With each outrageous declaration the demon sauntered closer to the frozen angel. His wings twitched and fluttered in agitation trying to will their master into taking flight, but he could not. He was transfixed, he was hypnotized, he was _ensnared._ The sense of incredulity within the angel was causing his thoughts to scatter helplessly, scrambling to make sense of the demon's words.

 _Be his?_ His mind asked over and over and over, _How am I to be_ his?

"You _dare_ to make a slave out of an angel? You vile, insolent, _wen-_ "

The angel nearly fell onto his back when the demon lunged towards him blurring from his vision and then snapping back into a terrifying clarity mere inches from his face.

"Be careful how you address me in this state, seraphim, for I am not a patient nor kind creature, and you will be handled how I see fit!" A second's pause and then the demon's face smoothed out in minute fractions. His scowl eased, the crease between his eyebrows became less severe, but his skin was pulled tight over his skull bringing skeletal hollows into sharp relief around his unearthly features.

"I have no wish to harm you needlessly. I would much rather have you... _pliant_." The angel's breath hitched as the demon's mood changed once again from seemingly livid to lecherous. He suddenly had a sickening feeling hollow out his gut. In a shaky whisper, much to the angel's dismay, he continued to question the demon.

"What is it that you want with me?" The demon's face softened in an unprecedented display of amusement.

"Is it not obvious? I want _you_ , little one." The angel froze. His thoughts were a tangled mess as the admission stumbled through his mind. His expression scrunched adorably in confusion. His innocent lack of understanding taking over his desire to maintain some kind of composure.

"I don't understand…" The silverette said before he realized that he was no longer trying to fight off the demon.

A smaller, but no less wicked smile slipped back onto the brunet's face. He began to shift, undulating around the angel like the snake he was, wrapping his limbs covertly around his prey. The angel's anxiety returned full force after the strange moment of calm, he braced his hands against the demon's chest. He truly had the intention to violently push the demon away, but he was instantaneously mesmerized by the strong heartbeat that was suddenly pounding through his palms. The demon watched him in interest wondering what caught the angel off guard.

Meanwhile the angel was falling prisoner to that heartbeat. He felt the reverberation of it like he had his hand to a drum carrying the vibrations from his palm, up his arm, to his chest forcing his own heart to match. The demon took the opportunity to pull the transfixed angel's chin towards him. Staring deeply into those crystalline eyes, the demon let every intention he had pass through their gaze before their lips came together in a firestorm of sensation: their synchronized hearts now beating for the other.

The angel had one last thought before utter madness usurped his mind, body, and soul…

 _God forgive me..._


	2. Chapter 2

Zero bolted upright in his bed as he fell back into the land of the living. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and his body was covered in sweat. His head began to throb as if he had been crying for hours, but his lower half was warm and rigid in full accordance with the end of his dream...nightmare?

The vastly differing sensations were setting him on the verge of a panic attack. He instinctively curled in on himself trying to close the invisible, yet gaping hole carving itself into his chest. A desperate whimper trembled through his lips as his fists bunched up the blankets around him mindlessly clawing at his mattress. He stayed there in that pitiful position until his lungs caught up to his heart and then sentient thought began to return to him. He had no idea how long it took, but judging by the sticky mess his face suddenly felt like and the amount of tears soaking his sheets, Zero chalked this up to one of his longest episodes yet which theoretically makes sense. This was the first time he had experienced the dream in such painstaking detail. He swore he could actually feel where the demon's lips had taken his, the delicate skin still tingling in memory.

God, these dreams were going to kill him. Either that or Zero was going to lose his mind first. There was nothing rational about the dreams in the first place and definitely no sense in the reactions they caused. At first, his dreams had just been of him running through that forest firsthand. He would have no idea what he was running from, but he knew that if he were caught...that would be the end. As the dreams became longer and more real, he began to see everything in third person, but he could _feel_ everything the angel felt. He thought everything the angel thought. It was terrifying to say the least and the hole left in his chest every time he woke up was starting to last well into the day. At this rate, the dreams really were going to kill him.

Later that day, hours after he had managed to rise from his bed, Zero sat at a window bar reading his new book. He had a steaming cup of coffee situated right under his nose allowing the bittersweet smell to calm his restless nerves. He hadn't quite managed to rid himself of the trembling that stubbornly remained after this morning's debacle. Something about that dream just had him completely on edge. Maybe it was because he finally saw the demon's face. He finally heard his voice. Either way, his entire being was still completely out of wack, but he had no idea how to fix it. Hopefully, it would all just pass.

The silverette spent the next few hours skimming through his book, occasionally gazing out into the city's gloomy streets, and scrolling mindlessly through his phone. He didn't have to go into work until eight which meant he still had four hours to kill. Usually, Zero wouldn't even be up at this time of day, but that damned nightmare made sure sleep wouldn't come without drinking or medicating himself half to death, but he promised Isaiah he would stop doing that.

 _Ugh, tonight is going to be shit to get through…_

Running his hand through his silver strands, Zero offhandedly gazed into the busy street taking in the scurrying pedestrians and sleek cars when a taxi on the opposite side of the road caught his attention. There wasn't anything particularly different about it, but a gentle buzzing at the back of his head had him watching for something. Soon enough, the back door opened to the sidewalk and a black umbrella opened above it. He saw the owner's hand first, covered by a black glove and then the coated arm. As the man's head came into view, Zero's heart stopped. A strikingly familiar waterfall of auburn locks came into view. The tresses curled gently around the man's shoulders and seemed to change color with every movement he made. The man turned slightly to close the cab door and patted the roof once to signal the driver that he was clear. Zero barely caught the sharp edge of a pale jaw peer around the chocolate waves before the man turned and started making his way towards the busy intersection.

Without a coherent thought, Zero shot up and bolted straight out of the cafe. His wide eyes desperately tried to keep the man's elegant frame in view, but the bustling sidewalk and numerous umbrellas had Zero shifting about clumsily drawing more than a few strange looks from passerbys. He caught a near full body sight of the man right before he was forcefully pulled backwards by his collar and then, none to gracefully, dropped onto the cold, wet concrete. Startled, and completely confused, Zero looked up into the face of a total stranger. A kid probably no more than sixteen.

"Sir, are you ok? I'm so sorry, but you were about to walk right into the road!" Zero honestly tried to make sense of the boy's words, but the buzzing at the back of his head was becoming worse and he just _had_ to find that man! Muttering hopefully a sensible apology, Zero shot back up and walked right out of the ring of concerned strangers. He dodged his way across the road hearing plenty of honks and furious yells, but he took off as soon as he hit the other side. He sprinted down the walkway desperately trying to catch sight of the black umbrella again. He must have run five blocks before it finally sank in that he had truly lost him. Quickly stepping into a side alley, Zero leaned heavily against the damp brick wall and tried to catch his breath. He couldn't quite work out why it was suddenly crucial that he found that man, or why the damned hole was back in his chest, but he knew that he just screwed up -that he just missed something important...and holy lord did it hurt.

The man in question dutifully ignored the sudden nagging in his heart and fangs choosing to continue casually walking through the bustling crowd. None would be able to detect the minute changes in the beautiful stranger, but his inner world was crumbling in chaos. How long had it been since his cavernous heart beat in excitement, in pleasure, in purpose? How many decades had he stumbled through pitifully bearing the tediousness of each sunrise and sunset? Far, far too many. His loneliness had been nearly unbearable during this cursed cycle, his only motivation to continue being the pain his beloved would feel if he left him to fair this damned earth alone. The sudden lightness filling his deadened limbs was fogging his mind in an emotional high making it harder to keep his breathing constant. If what he was feeling truly was in reaction to him...he was near.

The man could've sagged in a wretched display of relief if it was not absolutely paramount to keep his composure. He couldn't let those damned keepers know that he was alive again. He would murder the guards of Heaven themselves if they sent a mere glare in his love's a myriad of options and plans racing through his mind, the beautiful stranger kept to his schedule patiently awaiting the opportunity to once again claim what was rightfully his.


End file.
